The Tailor, ReStitched
by Frankie326
Summary: Edward needs his wedding tux altered. Who is the only seamstress fit for the job? Why our clumsy brown-eyed beauty, of course! Can she keep her hands to herself? B/E OCC AH. Lemons in the future! ON HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

**The Tailor, Re-Stitched **

**Chapter 1: Baby Daddy**

_Disclaimer: Not mine. _

_Summary: Re-write/prequel/sequel for The Tailor! Who is that brown-haired goddess putting the final touches on Edward's wedding tux? OCC AH Edward/Bella. _

_AN: So this is a re-write of my previous one-shot, The Tailor. I had a bunch of people ask for a sequel/full story, and I am here to please so I decided to make this into a full story. YOU DON'T NEED TO READ TAILOR FIRST. So this is like a combination prequel/sequel to The Tailor. And for all of you who have been waiting for this update since last week I am so sorry! I will try to get out another chapter in the next couple days since I have school off for Thanksgiving! _

_Enjoy!_

_Don't forget to review!_

**EPOV**

"Tanya" I growled.

"What?" she answered angrily.

"Are you really going to leave me here with blue balls? _Seriously"_ I asked. "You can't come over, grind up on my junk, and then stop! We _are_ dating you remember! We _can_ do these things!"

"Stop being a baby. You know I'm on my period right now" she hissed, looking away.

For some reason, I didn't believe her.

"And…?" I proceeded. "There are other ways to solve this problem you know".

"For the last time, damn it, I will not put your fucking cock in my mouth!"

"Ugh" I snarled. "I go down on you all the time and you can't return the favor?"

"You know I don't like the taste! And I can't have all those extra calories. I'm dieting" she huffed.

"A: you don't exactly taste like sugar either. B: brush your teeth when you're done. C: don't swallow. All easy solutions" I spat. "Or, we could just dirty up the sheets if you know what I mean".

"You're a pig sometimes you know that, Edward!" Tanya yelled as she grabbed her coat and stormed out of my apartment.

Tanya is awfully hormonal right now. Damn that fucking menstrual cycle!

I lay back on the bed and groaned. I probably shouldn't be such an ass. She really is a great girl when she isn't on her period, no one else is around, and she is intoxicated. Wait, that sounded horrible. She really isn't _that_ bad.

Tanya and I met as interns at Seattle Grace Hospital. We bonded quickly and hit the sheets soon after. She was great in bed. I am talking _great_. The way she can maneuver her body in all these ridiculous directions and her tight little pussy clamping around my dick like a vice, makes me go wild. I didn't want to give that shit up.

So here I was, on a Friday night, left alone in my bed, all the while, pitching one hell of a tent. I'd rather be at the hospital working another double shift than have to choke the chicken. I shouldn't have to jack off to porn, that's what Tanya's for. Relieving the pressure.

I rolled out of bed and started to strip. A cold shower was definitely necessary after me and Tanya's little interaction.

_I got out of work early and headed to my favorite club, The Singer. I haven't had a day off in weeks and decided I was going to celebrate by getting shit-faced. As much as I love saving lives, I sure as hell love me some Jose. As I downed my six shot, I saw a familiar strawberry blonde dance in the door. _

_Our eyes soon met and she sauntered over at sat on my lap._

"_Hey baby" she purred._

"_Want some Jose?" I slurred. She giggled and shook her head quickly, leaning closer to my chest. _

_I took this opportunity to glance at her lovely assets, emphasized by a tight black dress with a very low neckline. Her tits were literally on display for the world to see. Most of the time, this pissed me off because I didn't like other men ogling my lady, but I was too drunk to care. _

"_Like what you see?" she whispered huskily, dragging her manicured nails up my thigh until the rested on the jewels. _

"_Tanya" I moaned as she lighted squeezed my package through my trousers. _

_She giggled. "Let's dance, sexy"._

_I obliged. She clearly held the cars tonight, and who was I to turn down some loving?_

_She roughly grabbed my hand and dragged me out to the dance floor. When we got into the middle, she stopped. Suddenly, she grabbed my hands and placed them on her hips where I began to trace small circles on her tiny waist. _

_Slowly, she backed her ass up onto my crotch and began to roll her hips. I threw my head back in pleasure. Tanya alternated between soft and rough pressure on my growing erection._

_Abruptly, she bent over completely, placing her hands on the floor, exposing more of her fine ass. She continued to bounce and swirl her hips until another woman moseyed up to us. _

_She stood in front of Tanya and they began to grind while sticking her knee in between Tanya's thighs. _

_Tanya starting sliding up and down this girl's leg, and before long, Tanya lifted her hand and wrapped it around my neck._

"_Eddie, how about a threesome tonight?" she giggled._

_Was I seriously the only guy on earth who didn't enjoy a little girl-on-girl? Honestly, Tanya initiates a threesome at least once every time we go out. I used to joke that she liked girls more than me; that didn't exactly please Tanya._

"_Tanya" I whined in my drunken state. "You know I don't like threesomes. Can we please just get home and fix my little situation". _

"_Fine" she huffed, snatching my hand and literally heaving me off the dance floor and out of the club. _

And that's how I got into this lovely state. If I would have just said yes to a threesome, I wouldn't have to pleasure myself to get rid of this annoying erection.

I climbed into my gigantic shower and tried to relieve myself of the pressure while thinking of Tanya, but that didn't work. Instead, I tried to imagine my dream woman. I closed my eyes and saw these chocolate brown eyes that went on for days. Those beautiful eyes were framed by dark brown, angelically long lashes. I continued down the goddess's pale body, following every soft curve, keeping a special eye for the curvature of her back. Her sexy back sent me over the edge as I shot my seeds all over the shower wall.

Some guys are ass men, some are tits men; I however, am absolutely entranced by the curve of the back, leading from the ribs to the lowest part of the back, where those sexy little back dimples occur. Tanya, unfortunately, lacked those beautiful dimples that seemingly are my undoing.

As I wrapped the soft cottony towel around my waist, I thought about the goddess from the shower. Have I seen her before? Would I see her again? God, I hoped so because she was exquisite.

I grabbed a pair of navy boxer briefs and slid into my bed. I loved those silky golden sheets that my pixie of a sister found for me. I loathed shopping and willingly allowed Alice to furnish my new apartment. And boy, did she do well.

I quickly fell asleep, dreaming about the brown-eyed goddess.

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The next morning I woke with a nasty hangover. Since I didn't party too much, my alcohol tolerance was low. That would need to be changed immediately.

I rolled out of bed and nearly shit myself when I saw Tanya, sitting on the black couch across from my bed.

"Shit Tanya! You can't just fucking creep into my apartment in the middle of the night and sit there and watch me until I wake up" I yelled, which I instantly regretted. Loud noises were not helping my pounding headache.

"Here" she said, handing me a glass of water and two large aspirins. "I knew you had a rough night and though you could use a little help this morning".

Damn, Tanya thinking about someone other than herself. Epiphany? I gulped the water and aspirin down and proceeded to sit back down on the bed. Tanya walked over and wrapped her arms around my middle, pulling my head to her chest. She began to stroke my hair in an almost motherly fashion.

"Edward" she whispered. "There actually is another reason I came her this morning".

I nodded, urging her to continue.

"Yesterday I lied when I said I was on my period".

Ah-ha! I knew it!

"It's actually quite the opposite. I'm pregnant" she said.

The fuck she just say? I collapsed. How could this happen? We used protection every time! I am too young to be a dad! I can't ruin this kid's life by not being their because of my job! I can't do this.

"Edward?" she asked, clearly worried. "What do you think about this?"

I just shook my head. I still couldn't get over the shock. Holy shit, we have to get married now! I am only 23 years old, with a kid and married! This can't be happening!

"Are you positive?"

She nodded her head. "I took three tests and then I went to the doctor and he confirmed it. Four weeks".

I was silent. I was going to be a _dad._

"Tanya" I croaked. "We need to get married, okay?"

"Wow, you were always quite the romantic, Edward. You don't have to do this if you don't want; I mean, this baby doesn't have to have a father".

"Don't be ridiculous, Tanya. We are in this together, now. I'll have to call Alice so she can set up a wedding right away".

"Edward, you really don't have to do this".

"Ya, I _really_ do".

What was up with her? Is she honestly suggesting that she is going to raise our baby on her own? This might be early, but I know I need to be in my son or daughter's life.

"Uh, okay. I guess that's okay" she stuttered, looking away.

I wrapped my arms around her and placed my hands on her stomach. "I love you baby" I crooned. "I promise I will always be there for you".

"Well I'm gonna go Ed, I have bunch of other people I have to tell" Tanya said, seeming more excite to tell other people than the actual father of her child. So strange…

After Tanya left, I picked my cell and dialed Alice.

"Hello, big brother!" she practically screamed into the phone.

"Hey Ali. I, uh, have something big to tell you". I was so nervous to tell Alice. She never really liked Tanya.

"What? Are you finally going to come and visit me in New York! You know how much I miss you" she whispered the last part.

"No, Al. Ugh. Tanyaispregnantandwearegettingmarried" I said quickly.

"What!? Did you just say Tanya is pregnant and you are getting married?!" she wailed.

I didn't even have a chance to respond.

"You are so irresponsible Edward Anthony! Getting a floozy like _Tanya_ pregnant and now you are trapped in this relationship! You better not have the nerve to ask me to do your wedding" she snapped.

"Um. Well, that's kind of why I called, but since I can see that you don't want to hel-"

She cut me off. "Don't be ridiculous. I will do your wedding even if I can't stand the bride. So when do you want this all ready by?"

"Tanya and I haven't really even talked about that yet. In fact, she doesn't even seem to keen on the idea of marrying me. Who wouldn't want to marry me?" I scoffed.

"That _cocky_ 'tude of yours got you in this situation Edward. I recommend you learn to control it if you want this mess fixed" Alice responded.

I was about to respond when I was interrupted for what felt like the hundredth time in this conversation.

"I will be there in two days. Love you!" she cried.

"I love you too, Ali".

Well, this should be interesting…

**AN: Next chapter, BPOV**


	2. Sorry!

Author's Note

I know you probably hate me because you think this is a chapter, BUT, it's not.

I am sorry to say that both of my stories (Blue 42 and Re-stitched) will be on HIATUS until after December 19th.

This week and next I will not have any time to update because I have to study for my finals for the upcoming weeks.

I will try to work on the chapter if I have time, but there will not be any updates until I am done with finals and am on Christmas break.

I'm so sorry guys!

3 Frankie326


	3. Chapter 3

**The Tailor, Re-Stitched**

**Chapter 2: Brown Eyed Girl**

_Disclaimer: SM = Goddess. All hers._

_Thanks for all of you who wished me good luck on my finals! I appreciate it! It was weird, though, because we ended up having a snow day today, so the rest of our finals have to be made up after break. But, as promised, here is a new chapter! _

_AN: Yay! I'm glad so many of you are pumped for this re-write! I'll keep this AN short … REVIEW!!_

**BPOV**

"Don't forget, everyone, your term papers are due on Friday. I will not accept any late papers, that means you Mr. Newton. I don't care if you have baseball practice. I want that paper on my desk on Friday. No questions asked. Have a nice day everyone!" my professor, Marcus Vol announced to my advanced literature analysis class.

I was absolutely in love with literature, but I could not stand this class. It wasn't the concepts, rather the students and, well, the teacher that aggravated me.

Mr. Vol, or Marcus as he _insisted_ that we call him, was a little unnerving. There was something about him that creeped me out.

"Ms. Swan, can I speak to you please, in my office," he asked.

"Of course, Mr. Vol," I replied, following him into his tiny office.

"You know its Marcus for you. I want us to be, friends," he slurred, while obviously peaking a glance down my shirt.

Hello, I am up here, I thought. Men, no _boys_…

"So, what is it that you want to talk about?" I snapped.

His eyes quickly shot back up to my face and he smirked. What a pig.

"Well, Isabella, I expect that your paper will be nothing but excellence, as usual," he said, smiling with his snake-like eyes.

Unfortunately, this class was a graduation requirement, so it looks like I was stuck with Professor, Let Me Stare Down Your Shirt for the rest of the semester. Christmas break couldn't get here any quicker.

I basically ran out of his office.

"Hey Bella!" I heard a male-voice say.

"Oh, Mike," I replied.

"You know I love when you say my name in that breathy moan. I can't resist," he laughed.

"Excuse me. Was there something that you actually wanted? Or are you going to keep throwing sexual innuendos at me, hoping I might think your crude humor is actually funny and then I drop my panties for you?" I retorted.

He was speechless. Just the reaction I was going for.

Boys like him and Marcus are too easy.

They see a pair of tits and their mouths start to water. I would like to think that if I am a high level literature class that they know there is more to me then the twins.

I can remember back to freshman year of high school when the girls finally arrived…

_I walked into the halls of Forks High School, with my best friend, Alice Cullen. She was a short, jubilant character with jet black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. Oh, and of course, she was gorgeous and every guy with a "Y" chromosome wanted Alice. Even the teachers._

_This morning, Alice decided she would dress me for school, being adamant about how I needed to show off my new hot body._

_So here I was, in a low cut midnight blue blouse, with long sleeves and a pair of dark, boot cut jeans, that as Alice said, made my ass look edible. Whatever that means…_

_While walking the hallways, I noticed a few stares in my direction. It must be Alice standing next to me. _

_Regrettably, I was wrong. The biggest asshole of the century approached me. Me. Not Alice. Plain Bella Swan._

"_Hey pretty lady. My name is Demetri, but the ladies call me Big-D, if you know what I mean. How come I haven't seen you before? I'm sure I would have remembered your hot body. Especially, those two glorious peaks," Demetri said to my chest. _

"_Demetri, I have gone to school with you since we were five years old. So, yes, you have seen me around. That's unfortunate that you didn't remember me. Because you will never at chance at this, you ass," I said gesturing to my body._

_His jaw hit the floor. _

(End flashback)

It seems, that even at age 22, I can't find some gentlemen who wants more then my body. More then sex. A relationship.

When I finally arrived back at my apartment, I was nearly talked by my roommate, and best friend, Alice.

I can't believe that I found a friend as amazing as Alice. High school surly would have been a drag without her. And it fate seemed to be with us, because we both went to University of Seattle, right here in Washington. I couldn't justify leaving my dad, Charlie, here in Washington if I went to some big university. And plus, big universities weren't my thing.

"Be-llll-aaa!" she sang.

"Yes All-iii!" I sang right back.

"Okay, so you know how you have been looking for a new job?"

"Yes! I hate working at the library. Don't get me wrong, I love books, but I also need money. And don't even get me started about working at the local newspaper. Running and getting people's coffee all day is not exactly the most exciting job on the planet. School is not exactly cheap when I have to personally pay for it," I replied.

After my parents got divorced, money got tight and I had to work two jobs all throughout high school. Alice's parents were loaded and she always tried to pay for my things, but I wouldn't allow. I know that she wasn't trying to pity me, but it sure felt like it. I had a strong work ethic and knew that the harder that I tried, the more I would get out of life.

"So, anyway, I have a friend, rather an _acquaintance_, who needs some help at her store. She pays top dollar too. I'm talking more than twenty dollars an hour. And then, you won't have to keep working two jobs, or as long as you do right now. Then we can have more time to hang out together and go shopping!" she giggled.

"Twenty dollars an hour? What exactly am I doing? Working the corner?! Alice, you better not have gotten me into any weird shit!" I challenged.

"Relax, Bells. She needs a new assistant. She's a little, _eccentric_, but then again, who isn't?"

I sighed. I wouldn't put it past Alice to make me become a stripper or something. There has been more than one occasion where she thinks that I should flaunt my body. 'It's hot, Bella! People would totally pay to see you shake it!' Alice was a tad more open with her sexuality. But then again, if you look like Alice, I don't see what that would be a problem.

"Okay, this actually sounds like a good idea. When can I meet her?" I asked, excited.

"We can go today, actually, because I need to pick up some swabs," she replied.

"Swabs? As in fabric? What exactly does this acquaintance do?" I started to raise my voice.

"She's a seamstress and fabric wholesale provider," Alice answered.

"Alice! How am I supposed to help at all? With my clumsiness I am bound to prick myself, or some innocent customer with a pin!"

Alice laughed. She was actually laughing at me!

"Relax Bella. A: You probably won't be doing any of that stuff anyway. B: If you are, she will teach you. C: Who knows? Some customers are kinky and might like being poked with sharp objects," Alice chortled.

"Alice, not everyone is into the kinky shit that you and Jasper are!" I pressed.

She just smirked.

"Speaking of that sexy cowboy, is it okay if he stays over tonight? I haven't seen him in two days!"

"Eww, I really would like to be able to sleep without hearing you two humping like gorillas," I retorted.

"I know you secretly get off on it too. Jasper probably wouldn't mind if you joined in," she chuckled.

"Can we drop the topic my sex life, or the lack there of and go meet this lady?" I yelled.

"I thought you'd never ask! Let's go!" she cried.

We needed to ride in style, so we took Alice's Porsche. Alice's car look slightly out of place in front of the store. Okay, it looked _really_ out of place.

This place was a dump. A hole in the wall. I couldn't believe that Alice would set foot in this grimy little cavern.

"Don't worry, Bella. It doesn't look like that on the inside. I was a little concerned when I scoped this place out too.

I smiled, trying to convince Alice that I believed her.

I slowly stepped out of her car and glanced around. It looked like a hurricane just hit the place. Literally. There was nothing within a good five miles from this store. There were dead plants strewn across the broken sidewalk. Right next to the bolted door, was a large stack of mail. When did this lady last renovate this piece of shit?

Alice coughed, pulling me out of my analysis and nodded for me to head inside.

When I did, I was bombarded by pink. It covered nearly every surface in the room. The floor had to be the worst part. The base color was barely pink that it was almost clear, but don't need to fret because thousands of sparkly neon pink hearts floated aimlessly around in it. It was like pink fish tank, with no fish.

This resembled something close to Alice's wet dream. Well, this room and Jasper in a tight and pink banana hammock, but that was a whole different horrid image that was now stuck in my head.

"Jessica!" Alice cried.

Seconds later, a woman walked out of a back closet and I almost screamed. She was orange. Literally, like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory's oompa-loompa orange.

"Alice, dear!" she croaked. This Jessica woman ran-waddled over to Alice and kissed both of her checks.

She was dressed in a tight velour jump-suit; in imagine this, light pink. Her obviously fake blonde hair was so greasy I could shine the floors with it. When she got closer, I could see that she was having a tough time moving her lips. Botox at its finest people. Her wrinkles could not be hidden, even by her expensive facial crèmes. The woman was at least sixty and her getup to look younger, was doing, well, quite the opposite.

"So you must be the wonderful Isabella that Alice speaks so highly of!" she cried.

Her voice made me want to vomit. It was like nails on a chalkboard, bad enough to break some windows. Now that I think about it, there weren't any windows in here. It must be a precautionary method…

"Yes, but I actually prefer Bella. It's lovely to meet you. I love your store it's so…_chic_," I lied. It actually made me think of a dream room for a ten-year-old girl.

She leaned forward to give me a kiss on both cheeks. Her crackling lips scratched the skin of my cheek. I couldn't help but notice how long she held on, crashing her rock-hard saline-filled breasts, against my soft, natural ones. I tried not to wince in pain. She, or at least I thought, reluctantly let me go.

"Bella, darling, I am so glad that you are interesting in helping out at Seamstress Stanley's!" she giggled while moving her manicured hands toward the zipper of her coat.

I hadn't realized until now that it was zipped at the way to her bony throat, where her old skin loosely hanged. She slowly pulled the zipper down to reveal a very tight white shirt, which in crystals read…

_Stanley the Seamstress_

Oh God. She's one of those Bedazzle people isn't she? Please, please no!

She finished unzipping her coat and flung it over to a pink chaise across the room.

"Isn't it fabulous? You get one once you start working her too, except yours will just say Seamstress Stanley's, because you aren't me!" she gigged.

Well thank God for that. And I thought my sex life was bad. I couldn't think of any man on the planet who would want relations with this cougar.

"I really appreciate this job offer, but honestly, I don't know much about sewing," I said honestly.

"It's fine! A cute girl like you could learn so easily! You can stay late and I'll gladly teach you!" she tittered.

"Actually, I just need to pick up the five swabs that I ordered, because Bella has an appointment soon, and we don't want her to be late," Alice answered.

"Okay, I'll just run in the back and grab them for you," Jessica shouted while doing her awkward waddle-run again.

Alice turned and looked at me. "I know she's strange, but she pays well. Just take the job. You probably won't have to deal with her much, anyway. This place, as shocking as it sounds, can get pretty crowded."

Moments later, Jessica came out with a tower of fabric, nearly tripping over all of the pink rugs spread all over the ground.

"Bella, do you think you can start tomorrow at nine?" Jessica asked.

"Yes, that would be fine. Is there anything in particular I should wear?" I wondered.

"Oh! That's easy you cute little girl! Pink! And a smile. Customers always love a sparkly white smile," she laughed.

"Sounds good. I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning," I replied.

After lugging all of the fabrics to Alice's car, I started laughing hysterically.

"What?" Alice said, looking at me like I was crazy.

"I have never seen so much pink in my entire life!" I laughed.

She huffed.

"There is nothing wrong with pink. And you clearly you haven't seen my lingerie drawer. Pink is Jasper's favorite," she smirked.

"Alice, can we please not have another conversation on Jasper's favorite sexual things. Please?" I begged.

"Fine. But only if you get Jessica to lend me the store for a quickie with Jazzy. I know how much he enjoys fur…"

I sighed and closed me eyes. That was such an Alice remark.

My new job was going to be _interesting_.

AN: So? What did you all think of Jessica? A little different than the book, eh? Oh and Edward and Bella won't meet for two or so more chapies.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 3:**

**What the HELL is that?**

_Disclaimer: SM owns Edward and Bella. Obviously…_

_I also don't own a lot of other things that I reference in here._

_AN: ::Peeks from behind a corner:: Is it safe out there? ::Bites lip nervously:: Guys I am incredibly sorry that I haven't updated in like a month. I swear, every time I would open this Word document, I would literally stare at the screen, wondering what the hell I should write about. I kind of forced this chapter out, but I knew you guys wanted a chapter, so I figured I should try_

_But there is some good news … I have a new beta WHITLOCK-HALE. Woot woot!. She is basically the macaroni to my cheese. She's not the same beta from B42 (shaps) but I still love her to pieces!_

_So here's the chapter!! _

_­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­_

**EPOV**

"Tanya, I think we should have this wedding before the baby is born, what do you think?" I asked the red-head sitting at the table across from me.

She let out a huff and slowly picked up her caramel macchiato and took a large sip. When she set the off-white, cardboard cup down, I noticed she had a left a big red lipstick print on the side. Classy woman I got here. Two white Americans in their early twenties, pregnant, not married, and cheesy candy-apple-red lipstick just screams white trash. Larry the Cable Guy would be so proud.

"Edward, for the last time, we don't need to get married," she scoffed and began tapping her perfectly pedicure nails on the wooden table.

"Are you in a hurry or something?" I asked, annoyed. I specifically requested a break at this time so I could talk to Tanya about the current situation and it seemed like I was just wasting her precious time.

"Meh," she snapped and began digging through her gigantic snakeskin purse after the song "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry began to play, rather loudly, causing many couples around us to giggle. Very mature everyone.

Apparently she couldn't find her crystal-embellished pink sidekick phone and with an annoyed pant she tossed the body bag onto the table, causing the sides to flail open. I watched her intently, noticing how this bag was more important to her than answering my question. I saw her claw her way through every object known to man: tons of make-up, a swatch of fabric with shiny gems on it, a toothbrush, band-aids, a bottle of gin, a set of handcuffs, a bottle of clear liquid that I think is hand sanitizer, a large pair of scissors, and a long pink object.

I kept my gaze on the pink thing so I could figure out what the hell it was. It was kind of cylindrical and about 10 inches long.

"Why are you peeking through my purse?" Tanya yelled out of the blue.

"What, no? You put it on the table, I just glanced at it. And plus, you never answered my question; I was simply waiting for a response," I answered, covering my tracks.

"Whatever," she snapped in a very Valley Girl-esque voice.

"You never answered my question. Are you late?" I asked, annoyed.

"We both are," she smirked.

Well clearly; otherwise, I would be saving lives instead of losing precious IQ points sitting in this coffee shop with Whore Barbie. Err, bad Edward. Clearly I need some Prozac or _something_ because I am just an angry SOB right now. I suppose that generally comes with the territory of a pregnant girlfriend/fiancé/whatever-the-hell-she-is who keeps giving me blue balls AND lack of sleep because of my long shifts at the hospital.

I swear, I might decide to be nocturnal so I don't have to deal with this bullshit anymore. I mean, you never know who you could meet at strange hours of the night; maybe a rouge vampire. Well hot shit! I think I'm going to try that out sometime…

"That's not what I meant." Sometimes she is so difficult, "I mean, do you have somewhere more important that you need to be," I huffed.

"Why yes, actually. I need to go pick some clothes up. So if you don't mind, I need to leave," she answered.

"Tanya, we need to talk about this. I'm not going to run away because you want me to. I'm pregnant just as much as you are. Well, not like the fetus is in my vagina or anything," I began, alerting more customers since I, clearly a man, stated that I have a female reproductive organ. I sure know how to attract crowds. The manager was most likely going to ban me from ever entering again.

"You are the mother of my baby, and I want you to be my wife. Please don't let the kid miss out on having both of its parents around. That's not fair to our child and it's not fair to me. I want to be in his or her life," I explained.

Quite frankly, the thought of Tanya raising a child on her own makes me rather nervous. I mean, the woman can barely take care of herself. Picture Paris Hilton, suddenly becoming pregnant (who would allow that mistake is beyond me), without any help from Daddy Dearest or his credit card. I sense a small predicament in that scenario.

"Fine, whatever. We'll get married. But I want a big rock, okay? I already have one picked out. The Fancy Vivid Pink Diamond ring. Oval cut, pink diamond, and pavé white diamonds in platinum. Size eight. That's Tiffany's, in case you didn't know," she rattled off.

Oh, I knew Tiffany's. That bitch sure knew how to get some cash quick, just like a woman divorcing her husband: going straight for the Benjamin's. That light blue box from hell that sucks men's wallets dry on a daily basis. I shuddered.

"Tanya, are you out of your mind? You realize that ring is well over $700,000, right?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Now, no need to fret, I didn't just pull this shit out of my ass. I still have my manly dignity. My darling sister dragged me online to view the website and was simply _appalled_ when T&CO decided to create this ring using a diamond in lavender pink and not lavender rose. Apparently lavender pink was "so last season", her words, not mine, and lavender rose was simply the "must have" for fall. As far as I'm concerned, pink and rose is the same fucking color. But anyway, the more pressing matter is that now I _have_ to burn all of my lavender pink shirts. We wouldn't want to have to call Ted, Carson, and the rest of the posse in from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I get enough men hitting on me on a regular basis. No thank you, I really don't enjoy sword-fighting.

I know that I am a doctor and I make quite the pretty penny, but that much for a ring? I could buy a couple customized Vanquishes with that cash. Or I don't know, maybe some new things for the baby that is growing in the belly? No, no, no. How presumptuous of me to think that Tanya wants to do good for someone other than herself. I can just imagine…

"_Tanya, the baby is hungry," I said sadly._

"_I'm sorry, but we don't have any more money," she whined. _

"_And don't you even SUGGEST the baby eating my diamond ring!" she screamed._

_Yes, because that is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of baby food: diamonds. I bet those are just a treat for the digestive system._

_(End imagination sequence)_

"Are you telling me that I'm not worth it?" she cried, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"No, Tanya, that's not it all. I just, that's a lot of money for a ring," I tried to explain.

I reached forward to console her, but she just pushed me away.

"The mother of your children isn't worth it though? I'm pregnant and hormonal and I just want that fucking ring, okay?" she screamed.

Note to self for future reference: If the mother of my children wants a peanut-butter and pickle sandwich, or a diamond ring, I better fucking get on that shit if I ever want her _fucking_ my shit again.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you. But if that's really what you want, then I will gladly get if for you," I bargained.

"Thanks Eddie-weddie," she cooed, plopping a sopping wet kiss on my cheek before prancing out of the building.

I scrunched my face up in disgust in her choice of pet-names. Really? _Really?_ Do you want me to whip out the Tyrannosaurus Rex Tanya joke again? Oh, because I will. Don't test me, woman!

"Well goodbye to you too," I joked darkly, reaching my hand up to wipe away the slobber from my cheek.

Although I suppose I should get used to it. I mean with a baby and all. Wow, I just compared the competency of my future wife to my future baby. Once again, I sure know how to pick a winner.

Seriously, where does this woman go all the time?

I pulled out my phone to text Alice,

_To: Alice_

_From: Edward_

_Message: Tanya doesn't want to get married. Want to convince her for me?_

I chuckled at my reluctance to propose to this fine lady.

_To: Edward_

_From: Alice_

_Message: As much as I want to say I'm sorry she doesn't want to marry your stupid-ass, wait, that's a bunch of BS. I DON'T want you to marry her. _

Ugh. This was going to be harder than I thought. What can't Alice resist…?

_To: Alice_

_From: Edward_

_Message: Please. I'll go shopping with you for an entire day! _

Hopefully that would soften her up. I knew Alice can't refuse shopping. If it didn't, I might have to get Jasper involved and that could get messy. I know how those two are…

_To: Edward_

_From: Alice_

_Message: You put up a hefty bargain, but you got yourself a deal mister. I'll do my best. _

Excellent. I wonder if Tanya will be a Bridezilla. Oh God…

_AN: So, not super long. But I figured I should give you what I have. I'm currently writing the next chapter and hopefully it will be up soon! I'm not sure when the next update will be since I'm working on B42 a lot right now, but hopefully soon. I do really like where this story is going to go, though!_


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 4:**

**First Day on the Job**

_Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. I just think it's fun to make them act like crazy lunatics. Bahaha._

_AN: Thanks for all of the reviews and PM's, loves! I still feel super bad about my severe lack of updating, so here's another chapter._

_So there is this part where Bella talks about her lying habits and that is a true story. I actually lie in the way she is talking about. It will make a lot more sense when you get to the flashback section. Whitlock-hale can totally vouch for my lack of lying skills. _

_Once again, a round of applause for WHITLOCK-HALE for being one bad-ass beta, yeah-yuh. _

_And now, Bella's first day with the demon! _

_­­­­­­­­­­_

**BPOV**

Tomorrow. I opened one eye to stare at the alarm clock flashing red. Ugh. January 28th. I shut that eye and grunted, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over my face. The day after yesterday. It's already tomorrow, meaning it's my first day on the job with _Jessica._ The weather seemed to agree with my mood, dark clouds covering the normally blue sky. Pathetic fallacy, much? I think this is a warning for me to not go to work today, or ever, for that matter. As appealing as getting struck by lightning sounds, I think I might pass…. Don't be so dramatic Bella. What are the odds of being struck by lightning? Like 576,000 to 1? And actually dying from it; that has got to be like 1 in 2,320,000? I don't really know, Google that shit. Although, knowing my odds combined with my outrageous clumsiness, this was not looking too good.

And I don't think the actual act of being struck by lightning would be the worst part of the situation. Jessica would probably come to the hospital, cry her pink tears, and then make me a sweater with her back hair and then glue some crystals on it. I shivered in disgust. Maybe I should just go to work and steer clear of that fucking psychotic shit.

I mean, come on, it can't be that bad. The woman is not going to hassle me for the entire time. She has to have some customers. I mean, if Alice trusts her in the fashion world that must mean that there are others out there.

Wait! I could just call in sick! Say that I have the Dr. Strangelove Syndrome and that I can't be held liable for the actions my hands take part in without my consent. You know, I could be measuring the inseam of some gorgeous man, when my hand suddenly reaches out and grabs his junk, accidentally of course. I mean who just randomly does that?

I think that this shenanigan may work with this lie right now. Well, except for the fact that I'm nearly the worst liar known to mankind. I still remember when I was eight and I took my mom's favorite pearl necklace….

"_Bella, have you seen my necklace, I have a date tonight and it would look great with my cream Dior dress and chocolate brown Jimmy Choo pumps. You know the one I'm talking about, the rare pearl one from Venezuela," my mother asked. _

_I looked away nervously. I took that necklace to class for show and tell and well, some showing came to some telling and I sold some boy the necklace for two chocolate bars: the Whatchamacallit bar. _

Obviously at that age, I was quite the bargainer. Don't hate, that candy was the shit!

"_Uh no," I lied. "Haven't seen it"._

"_Bella, I can see right through you. Whenever you lie, you speak in a British accent. A horrible one, but a British accent nonetheless," she explained._

"_I do not!" I cried, and then covered my mouth. _

_Sure enough, those words I uttered were indeed in the worst attempt of a British accent I had ever heard in my eight years of life._

"_Case and point," she laughed, raising an eyebrow. _

_(End of flashback)_

That sounds completely legit, as long as I don't speak. What the heck was I suppose to do now, send a fucking carrier pigeon? I chortled as an image of Jessica, with a big wad of pigeon shit on her head, popped into my mind.

I quickly pushed that away and continued to develop my foolproof plan about Dr. Strangelove Syndrome.

Although quite frankly, I probably shouldn't say the words doctor and love in the same breath; Jessica looks like one of those women with a secret doctor fantasy and I didn't need to play nurse in that role-play. I shuddered for the second time of the morning.

I sighed, annoyed at my stupid critical thinking. If I had a penny for every time I was told I surprise people with my thoughts, I would surely be a millionaire and definitely not working at Seamstress Stanley's.

Quite frankly, I would probably buy that toxic piece of land and then incinerate it. No one should have to suffer through working in that demon store. Not even the devil him, err, herself.

I was about to menacingly smile about my diabolical scheming when I realized a small predicament. There was one person who would not be peachy about the closing of Seamstress Stanley's, the same person that got me my job, the same person who is my best friend.

Alice.

She went out of her way to assist me in finding a better paying job, so I could spend more time having fun while I was still in college.

So, being the great friend that I am, I rolled out of bed and stretched my aching limbs. I ran my fingers through my hair as I passed by my dresser with a large mirror on top. Holy shit! That thing on top of my head looks like, well, for lack of a better term, a haystack! I don't think Jessie-dearest would approve. She also wouldn't approve if I came to work in my pajamas, especially since they aren't color appropriate.

I began rummaging through my drawers, hoping to find a pink shirt that Alice forced me to buy in the past. I came up empty-handed. Well, damn. Of all the times I needed to go shop-

I was interrupted by the buzzing of my cell-phone. I ran over to my bedside table and laughed when I looked at the caller I.D.

Before I could even get one word in, the person on the other line spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier and drop off your clothes for work today, but I had to situate something with my brother's bitch-of-a-fiancé," Alice said quickly.

"What? You got me clothes? Alice, no," I beseeched, knowing already that it was a lost cause. If Alice brings clothes, you put the fucking clothes on, or she will use her pixie magic and turn your orange soda into Cheez-Its, or shrink your new A&F pants.

"Don't fight it, Bella. Plus, I'm already outside with my bag of goodies," Alice giggled.

I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see. I hate the name bag of goodies; it made me think that she had drugs and a bunch of kinky sex toys in it. I really wouldn't put that past her.

I hung up the phone and walked over to open the door.

Alice basically barged through, nearly knocking me over in the process. She walked over to my room and threw her _bag of goodies_ onto the bed.

"By the way, I know that you rolled your eyes at me when you were on the phone," she said.

"How did you-," I trailed off, dumbfounded.

"I can see the future remember," she smirked, pointing to her head, adorned with black spikes. "Don't hate the bag, Bella. She's very emotional."

"Only you, Alice. Only you," I laughed at her personification of inanimate objects like shopping bags.

"Very funny. Now strip," she commanded.

"Umm," I babbled.

"I have the same parts and I've already seen. Just take off your clothes, Swan," she attempted to say sternly.

I just leered at her authoritative voice, but obliged. I was left in a ratty sports bra and canary-yellow underwear.

Alice reached into her bag and pulled out a set of modest baby-pink panties. Surprisingly they were just a simple boy cut. No cheekies. No thongs. No lace.

I quickly changed into the new undergarments and was prepared for the worst: the actual outfit.

She grabbed a pair of dark-blue skinny jeans with a swirling design on the butt pocket in various shades of pink. I couldn't help but notice how the zipper looked to be about an inch long.

"Shit, Alice, these jeans are way too low! I'm at work! And not on the corner! These jeans are just, no, absolutely not," I complained.

"Loosen up, Bella. Don't you recall what Jessica was wearing? A track suit. This is way more professional. And plus, your normal mom jeans are not meant for young women with a rockin' bod like yours!" she exclaimed.

"Fine, but if I get arrested for indecent exposure, so help me…" I said suggestively.

This time Alice rolled her eyes.

"Oh, but wait until you see the shirt! I actually got it on sale at BCBG. I actually had to rip it out of the hands of another customer, but whatever, it didn't go with her skin tone. I actually did her a favor, stealing this shirt from her," Alice said like it was no big deal.

I could literally picture tiny Alice tackling another woman and screaming, "Bitch, that's my shirt!" Oh, and hair-pulling. Alice might be tiny, but she sure was feisty as hell. Obviously, or I wouldn't be giving in to her methods of torture so easily.

Sure enough, Alice whipped out a pink tank-top which was adorned in silky flowing fabric. Under the bust, lay a large satin bow in a dark black.

After a death glare or two from Alice, I reluctantly put on the entire outfit. Boy was I surprised at how much I actually like the ensemble as a whole.

The thin straps of the tank accentuated my toned shoulders and the modest v-neck gave me a professional amount of cleavage.

It was sexy, not skanky, and for that I was thankful. Alice generally blurred those lines.

The designs on the jean pockets brought emphasis to my sculpted ass, providing a tad more curve.

"Ali, this must be a sign of the Apocalypse, because I actually like this outfit, a lot. And I'm not just saying that so you will leave and I can change. It's perfect," I said sincerely.

She laughed and said, "Oh, there's more," again reaching into her enormous bag.

Out came a pair of knee-high, black snakeskin boots complete with three inch stiletto heels and a pointed toe. If I ever needed to shank someone, this shoe would be perfect. Although I must admit, I never wished to pop my FMB cherry, but it looked like today was the day.

"Fuck me boots, Alice, really? You were doing so well! But I actually might need to be able to walk at work today," I explained.

"You'll be fine. I could have bought you the ones with the six-inch heel, but I refrained. I couldn't have you breaking your ankle in those puppies. You wouldn't want Jessica to have to fix that for you," she laughed extra hard and I felt like I was missing out on some sort of inside joke.

"Fine," I agreed. "But I won't like it". Clearly, this was against my better judgment.

Suddenly, Alice pushed me onto the bed and forcefully grabbed my right foot. She already had the right boot unzipped and then as daintily as possible, placed my foot inside the boot. Then, she zipped it back up and repeated the process with my other leg.

"Well, you better get going, you don't want to late for your first day!" Alice chastised, handing me my keys and purse and basically throwing me out the door… of _my _apartment. Hmph.

I hopped into my rusty truck, started the geezer, and began my route to Seamstress Stanley's. It took me a little longer to arrive than it took Alice yesterday; apparently I'm the only one who's concerned with the rules of the road. I guess having the Chief of Police as your father makes you one of those annoying people who drive 45 on the interstate.

When I arrived, I sat in the cab, debating whether or not I should go in. I was nearly hyperventilating. Seriously, Dr. Strangelove Syndrome was getting more and more appealing.

With a huff, I jumped out of the car and dragged my feet into the building.

I attempted to open the door to building, but the handle had other ideas. I began to rapidly shake the knob, hoping to pry the door open, with no avail. Aggravated, I yanked with all of my strength on the rusted gold handle, successfully prying the door open. Unfortunately, I do not know my own strength and the tiny knob came off the door and now rested in my hands.

Well, shit.

I was about to lift my hand to call for Jessica to open the door, when low and behold, the woman appeared.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize I pulled so hard," I explained to the ground, too embarrassed to look at Jessica.

When I looked up, my eyes nearly shot out of my head. Jessica was standing in front of me, and not wearing any pink, or any make-up. She looked like a mess.

"Ms. Stanley, are you alright?" I questioned nervously.

I was a tad concerned to see such a bubbly person in such sadness. I pitied her against my better judgment.

"Everything is breaking!" she cried, a little too dramatically.

I mean for goodness sakes, it was just a door could just call a repairman and have him fix it. It would take five minutes, tops.

"Ms. Stanley, would you like me to call a repairman for you?" I asked warily.

I didn't need a deranged fashionista having a melt-down. No, no, no. Not my area of expertise.

"Men! I hate that demographic! They are destroying all the good woman!" she screamed.

Well clearly someone didn't get laid yesterday.

"How about you go into the back room and take a power nap while I run and get you some coffee and call a repairman to fix the door," I bargained, trying to sound cheerful, even though I didn't want to deal with her bullshit.

"Okay, get me a nonfat caramel macchiato. Just take some drawer money to pay for it and get yourself something too," she said.

"Do we have any appointments today?" I asked.

That might be a little bit of a problem. I can't sew. I don't know where anything is in this pink box. Oh and Lord knows I can't give fashion advice. At least I know how to use a cash register.

"We have one appointment for a tux fitting at two," she snapped and then stormed off.

Um, okay. Someone clearly forgot to take their meds this morning. I'm pretty sure if you are a seamstress, you should be used to tux fittings. Maybe she was just pissed because she knew I was going to fuck it up and now she would lose a customer. Now I feel like such a bitch.

I walked over to the desk and picked up the telephone, Pink and furry. But what else was I expecting? One with Marilyn Manson's face on it? I think not…

Shit. Who am I supposed to call to fix this door? It's not like I know any repairmen.

Wait! A mechanic could fix this stuff too, right? I knew _exactly_ who I would call.

I quickly dialed the numbers and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello! Thanks for calling Jake's Garage, Seth speaking. How may I help you?" a familiar cheerful voice spoke through the line.

"Seth! Hey! It's Bella!" I said happily.

"Bella! It's been way too long since you've been out to the garage," he chided.

"I know, I know. I've been really busy with my jobs and school and ugh," I sighed.

"We all miss you, Bells. Jake especially," he said the last part softly.

I sighed. Jake and I tried the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but failed miserably. I desperately wanted to remain friends, but it was awkward for the both of us, and everyone around us. I tried to stay away long enough until this cooled down and some new drama ensued. But apparently, it was still hot as a werewolf.

"I miss you guys too," I said sincerely.

"I suspect this isn't just a social call, though," Seth laughed.

"You caught me. It seems I've run into a predicament of sorts. At my job today, I sort of pulled the handle off the door-"

Seth's guffaws interrupted my explanation.

"Bella Swan, I would have never suspected you of all people to tear a doorknob straight off the door. Jake on the other hand…" he trailed off, chortling.

"This is serious. It's my first day, and my boss is kind of a psycho and will be really upset with me if I can't fix this. I know this isn't technically what you guys do, but I need your help. Do any of you know how to fix a doorknob?" I questioned hopefully.

"Of course! Just give me the address and I'll send _someone_ down," he said, putting emphasis on the "someone".

It didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together and realize that Seth was going to send Jake.

"Thanks Seth! You're a lifesaver!" I sighed happily.

"It's no problem! And besides, we _do_ more than check you out under the hood," he joked playfully.

"Goodbye, Seth," I rolled my eyes so obviously that he probably heard it on his end of the phone.

"Bye Bells!"

Call repairman. Check.

Get coffee. Err, not check.

Since we are basically in the middle of no where, it took me a good hour and a half to go find a fucking Starbucks. Aren't those things supposed to be on every street corner?

When I got back to the store, I noticed a large, burly man with dark curly hair and a yellow tool-belt around his waist.

"Can I help you?" I asked the man.

This guy stuck out like a sore thumb. And there was no was this was the two o'clock appointment, since it was only twelve-thirty.

He quickly turned around and smiled. His pale cheeks dimpled with this action, exposing his pearly white teeth.

"Well hey there! I'm Emmett McCarthy. I'm from Jake's Garage. Seth said you needed a repairman to fix a doorknob," he explained, extending his right hand.

I awkwardly looked down at the two drinks in my hands. One for Jess and one for Jake, who I thought was going to do the job…

Emmett settled for a clap on the back, which nearly made me drop the drinks. He smiled sheepishly in apology.

"Oh, thanks for coming on such short notice. I just wasn't expecting you. I thought Seth was going to send-"

"Jake?" he cut me off, smiling a bit.

"Yeah. How did you know?" I asked.

"Well, I assume you're Bella. He talks about you consistently," he said.

"Oh," I laughed uncomfortably.

"Well, I better go get this to Jessica. I wouldn't want her to have a panic attack," I laughed and Emmett joined in soon after.

"So this should take about ten minutes, since it's nothing too serious. Do you have another handle?" he asked.

"Shit, no. I don't. Do I need to go get one?" I questioned, hoping the answer was no.

"No, it's fine. I have extras. But I didn't know if you wanted it to match or anything," he joked.

"Oh, God no! This isn't my store. I actually hate all of it," I said truthfully.

"Well you should think about doing some remodeling. It doesn't look too safe," he gave his opinion.

"I'll talk to Ms. Stanley. Thanks again for doing this. Would you like this coffee? It's just plain black, and I thought he was going to be here so I got him one…"

"Sure, thanks," he said, taking the cup.

"I'll just be inside if you have any questions," I smiled, walking through the door.

After I got inside, I walked over to Jessica's office and softly knocked on the door.

"Ms. Stanley, I have your macchiato. Don't worry; it's nonfat like you asked," I spoke.

"Just leave it on the ground, I'll get it later," she growled.

Okay, seriously. This PMS bull-shit is getting awfully irritating. Lady it's my first day on the job and I already want to retire.

While I was waiting for Emmett to finish, I walked around and familiarized myself with the store. After walking around, I noticed that there were numerous pictures that were torn in half, leaving just Jessica in the frame. Who did she rip out? Maybe it's that man…

Not ten minutes later, Emmett walked in and announced that he was finished with the job.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked, reaching for the credit card in the expenses drawer.

"It's on the house," he smiled.

"Are you sure? I mean, I could hem you some pants or something," I joked.

"No, seriously, Bella. It's cool. Actually, you can pay me by letting Jake redo this place, you know, like the outside, or whatever. That will be free too," Emmett bargained.

"I can't accept that, I'm sorry. Please let me pay you," I beseeched.

"Nope, just think about what I said, okay?" he smiled before walking out the door.

I wandered aimlessly around the store for the next hour, waiting for the two o'clock appointment. I read the sheet and all I had to do today was pick out the fabrics for his suit. That couldn't be too hard.

Finally, at 2:08, a man walked through the door.

_AN: 10 points for the person who gets the David Blaine Street Magic reference! And maybe a preview if I feeling extra nice._

_Haha, and yes, the FMBs are a name me and my friends actually call that type of boot. Usually we are making fun of a person because they actually look like a sleaze, but Bella looks hot. Don't worry!_

_I wonder who the man is! Haha, I think it's fairly obvious! _

_Now I gotta go write Blue 42 since I promised its release tomorrow morning and I haven't started yet. Eek!_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**The Woman and the Man**

_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but I do own a small green frog named Larry._

_AN: Thanks for your reviews, ladies and gents! I was really pumped to write this because I got 118 reviews on B42's last chapter! I know that B42 doesn't have anything to do with this story, but I was in such a jolly mood, I decided to write some more Re-Stitched._

_Go thank WHITLOCK-HALE for beta-ing. So the two of us went to Dave and Buster's this weekend and in case you don't know, it is a huge arcade. Well, technically the official name is an adult arcade, but that sounds really dirty. Oh, well. Now I'm not a big gamer or anything, but I love this place. W.H. owned like every game. It was the shit._

_Anyway. Here is some more sarcastic Edward. Yeah-yuh._

**EPOV**

After my shift at work, I ran to my car after receiving directions from Alice. Apparently, I was going to be traveling to the middle of no where to visit renowned tailor Jessica Stanley. Seamstress Stanley's, really? Very creative, big girl. What kind of fucking name is that? Christ, a nine-year-old could come up with a more ingenious name then that.

Alice told me that the remote location is vital to the survival of the company. Miss Stanley explicitly demanded to build on a street called Shiny, Sparkly, or Shimmery. Since no one in their right mind has named a road after anything that had a gleam in the light, Jessica built one. Well, _she_ didn't build it, per say; but she requested the construction of it. A few short months later, Seamstress Stanley's was erected on 69247 Shiny Street. I rolled my eyes. This bitch better be able to hem or so help me.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number Alice gave to me. She already set up an appointment, but I just wanted to ensure that I was actually getting in to. It might just be the initial sizing, but, damn, I don't just drop my shit for anyone. I've got things to do at the hospital.

I waited a few seconds until a shriek answered the phone.

"Thank you for calling Seamstress Stanley's, Miss Jessica speaking, how may I help you?" she asked a bit too cheerfully.

It seemed fake. Not like Alice's genuine excitement for life. This Jessica, the woman who was going to be placing pins near my dick, sounded like an airhead. I'm sensing a problem.

"This is Edward Cullen, my sister Alice, should have set up an appointment for a wedding tux fitting. I just want to check that out and make sure everything is squared away. Two o'clock, right?" I asked.

"Oh, so you're _the _Edward. The Edward who got his girlfriend pregnant and now is having a shotgun wedding?" she snapped.

The fuck she just say? Psycho bitch needs to take her lithium. One second she's cheery and the next she is snapping at me; another reason why I shouldn't let her bring sharp objects near the goods. I would really like the cock to be functioning normally thank you very much.

"Yes, that would be me. So is the appointment for today still okay? Because I really need that suit altered," I said, trying to keep my cool.

She might be crazy, but I shouldn't add to the fire. Jessie doesn't need another reason to shank my balls.

"Of course your appointment is still at two. Just make sure that you are on time. There are other important clients. You may be one of my best customer's brothers, but that doesn't mean you can disrespect me by being late," she growled.

Jeez. Now I can't decide if she's bi-polar, or if she's just PMS-ing. Either way, I'm not looking forward to this appointment. I also get the feeling that this woman is a wannabe cougar. I cringed. Younger woman were my thing.

"Well, okay then, ma'am, I will be there at two o'clock sharp. Have yourself a dandy day," I chuckled sarcastically.

"Yeah, bye," she snarled.

Chill out, Nancy. It's not like I broke your nail or criticized your fashion sense.

For the rest of the day, I was not looking forward to this bogus appointment; dreading it actually. I would rather slit my throat with a rusty hanger than deal with Jacked-Up Jessica.

Rapidly, I hopped into the Volvo and plugged the address for Seamstress Stanley's into my GPS. I sped off down the road toward my destination.

But of course, my GPS decided to lead me on a wild goose chase across the Seattle cityscape. It wasn't exactly a hotspot in Washington.

So after a few hours of driving around like a chicken with its head cut off, I made it to the store, err, shack. From Alice's description, I was expecting a top-of-the-line tailor. Not a piece of cardboard with pink paint splattered on the outside.

Reluctantly, I got out of the car and ambled to the front door. Surprisingly, it opened with ease. I walked through the door and spotted a brawny man and a woman with dark brown hair who were deep in conversation.

I coughed and the woman immediately looked up. She gasped as our eyes met.

This woman did not look like a Jessica. She needed a name that was more, sexy. Like Veronica.

I was pretty shocked as well. I was expecting Jessica to be older, and well, filled with more Botox and surgically perfected. I was anticipated her tits to be filled with more saline.

This woman was sexy as hell. I would definitely not mind her flowing hair tickling my thighs, with her flushed pink lips circling my engorged cock while I fucked her in the mouth.

"Can I help you?" she asked sweetly.

"I'll just be leaving," the burly man said to brunette.

"I'm Edward Cullen, I have an appointment at 2:00," I answered, staring at her breasts that were nuzzled sweetly in a "v"-neck.

I wanted to reach out and introduce myself to the twins. They looked like they were begging to say hello to my palms while her lady friend held my little Eddie tightly.

I grinned, and then frowned. Tanya is my fiancée.

Jessica cleared her throat, and I grudgingly broke my gaze from her chest, which was practically on a platter for me to take a bite of. Delicious.

Then she coughed again, this time a little louder. My eyes met her brown orbs.

"Well, you're late. And that doesn't mean that you get a free pass to look down my shirt, ass-hole," she snapped.

Feisty, I growled.

"Sorry, Jessica. I am just in awe at your fantastic _skills,_" I chuckled.

"Jessica? God, no. I'm Bella," _Bella _said.

Hmm, Bella. That's more fitting of this sexy little woman. Bella sounds exotic.

"Wait? What? So you're not the bitch, err, woman, I spoke to on the phone?" I questioned.

"No, that _bitch_ would be my boss. I'm guessing you are the reason she was in such a horrible mood this morning," Bella growled.

"What? She's got her panties in a bunch? Although, her panties are the last ones on my mind," I grinned suggestively.

"Aren't you the one who is here for a _wedding_ tux sizing? Pig," she said under her breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who are you to judge me? My girlfriend, sort of, is apparently a Fertile Myrtle and got pregnant even though she was on birth control. I stepped up and said I would marry her for the kid's sake. Sorry if I am a tad hesitant to leave the single life," I snapped.

"Boo fucking hoo," she growled. "Maybe you could have waited to have sex until you were ready to commit. Because clearly, you don't want to be with this girlfriend/fiancée/whoever-the-hell she is."

"Well excuse me Bella, have you ever wanted some random guy pinning you against a wall while he fucks you like an animal? While he pumps in and out of you while he drags his fingers down your back? I know you have desires you little temptress," I said, causing Bella to blush.

"I-I d-don't know w-what you're talking about," she stuttered nervously.

"Lie all you want, pretty woman, but I know I've got that image ingrained in your mind. I know that you are fantasizing about us doing the no-pants-dance," I said confidently.

"Don't get you're hopes up, champ. I have a boyfriend," she said quickly.

A little too quickly…

"That big guy that was in here before? That's fine. He probably just bulks up to compensate for, ya know," I laughed, trailing off.

She scowled.

"For your information, no, Emmett and I are not dating," she began.

Before she could finish, I cut her off.

"So you DO enjoy a good lay! I knew it! How many fuck buddies do you have?" I laughed.

This time she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so I don't have a boyfriend, or a _fuck buddy_ as you so eloquently put it. But that doesn't mean that I don't know anything about sex," she barked.

"Well, why don't you teach me a few pointers? I am going to be married in a few weeks and I'm sure the wifey would love learning some new techniques," I grinned cheekily.

"Well, okay champ, drop your pants and let's get to work," she beamed.

Holy hell this is proving to be a better day than expected.

_AN: This isn't too long, but I thought it was funny and I wanted to get it out. I really like their banter in this chapter._

_Review, please! _


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 6**

**Larger Than Your Average Dollar Bill**

_Disclaimer: I own a lime green prom dress, but not Twilight._

_AN: Yikes. I'm like the worst updater of all times. I'm sorry people. I sprained my hand and didn't update for like a month and then soccer started so I was tired and blah and that was the worst excuse ever, but it's the truth. _

_In the midst of all of that, I had a fabulous idea for a new fic and I am super pumped about it. How does this apply to you? Well, I'm not going to start writing it until I finish B42 and ReStitched. This means faster (hopefully!) updates for you! YAY!_

_Anyway, onto the next chapter._

_Whitlock-hale is the peanut-butter to my jelly. Beta 2.0. However, she didn't beta this because I wanted you guys to have something to read since I have neglected you for so long!_

_Last time (BPOV)_

"_Well, okay champ, drop your pants and let's get to work," she beamed._

**EPOV**

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit good God almighty!

This hot-ass woman is going to suck my cock. Steinway is _so _pumped, aren't ya big guy? Yes, I named my cock after a piano. It was my first piano, and the first place I had sex, so I figured, why the hell not.

Anyway, I didn't even have to overwhelm her with my good locks and undeniable charm.

This was too fucking easy. With Tanya, I have to fucking pry open her jaws sometimes. She must really hate cock…

Hastily, I unhooked the tarnished silver button on my jeans and tugged the zipper down. I shimmied my pants down my legs, taking the extra effort to shake my junk in Bella's face. Nothing like a little preview before the show starts.

I was about to hook my fingers into my charcoal boxer-briefs and drop those too when Bella place her warm hand on my lower stomach. The tip of her middle finger was falling into my belly-button and the bottom of her palm grazed the top of my boxers.

How eerie, she was a perfect fit.

"Now, now, aren't we a tad presumptuous? I'm just here to alter your wedding tux," she grinned sexily, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes.

_Why aren't you blowing something else, woman?_

She then proceeded to slide her pointer finger down my happy trail and over the bulge protruding from my boxers. As soon as she had touched the surface, her hand was gone.

I scowled.

"Is everything okay, Big Boy," she laughed, biting her plump lower lip.

I'm sure you think that's funny now. Just wait to you see the real thing. We'll see who's laughing then.

"I am a ray of fucking sunshine, thank you very much," I snapped, and in a very childlike manner, I crossed my arms and avoided her gaze.

"Did I hit a nerve? Forget to take your Viagra this morning?" she joked.

"I don't need _Viagra_!" I shouted.

"Oh, is Cialis your cup of tea, then?" she continued.

"What the fuck? Do I really look like I need natural male enhancements?" I yelled, grabbing my package as if to emphasize its greatness. "I'm pretty sure I would make your cream just by looking as soon as this fabric hits to floor."

Bella squeaked and her legs quivered.

"Like that? Do you like being dirty? I bet you do," I grunted, egging her on.

"Oh, coming from the man who is getting _married_," she smirked.

I froze. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Tanya. I have a pregnant fiancée and I'm asking for a blow-job from the tailor who is working on my wedding tux. I feel like this might make VH1's 40 Most Ridiculous Sex Scandals, right up there with Clinton & Lewinski and that lady who chopped off her husband's dick.

But then again, my middle name is Classy for a reason.

And then, instead of taking the blame myself, I decided to be pissed at Bella. I glowered at her.

"Hey," she whispered, standing up from the floor. "I was just messing around with you. It was stupid. It's just, I was nervous because this is my first day and you are by far the fucking sexiest client and I…"

I let her words drown out as a smart-ass grin began to appear on my face.

She thinks I'm sexy.

She thinks I'm sexy!

I'm sure I started to do a stupid-ass dance, but then Bella broke me out of my reverie.

"Edward?" she asked. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" I questioned, clearly distracted. I was kind of busy reflected on the fact that she thought I was sexy.

"I asked if you would accept my apology," she whispered hopefully.

Oh, that. Duh!

"Of course! What are the fucking sexy clients in the world for?" I joked.

Bella turned bright red and covered her mouth in shock. Just the reaction I was looking for.

"C'mon Bella, I think you're pretty fucking sexy too. I mean, damn, those boots are hot. Straight out of some S&M porn, right there. I'm getting hard just thinking about you in a leather corset, lacy panties, fishnets, those boots, and a whip. Shit. How about just the boots and that wet, bare pussy. Yummy. And then you can taste me," I chuckled licking my lips.

Her jaw dropped, exposing her cute pink tongue and emphasizing those perfect pouty lips.

"Is that an invitation for entry?" I chortled, placing my forefinger in her mouth and began to slowly pump in and out, enjoying the warm and wet sensation.

She scowled and proceeded to bite my finger, hard.

"Fuck," I gasped. "And kinky too!"

Apparently I had hit her last nerve, because she started to lash out at me.

"You know what? How about we get this fitting over with pronto so you can go please you _fiancée_," she snapped, obviously irritated.

It still hadn't fazed me so I continued my playful banter.

"Sorry Miss Bella, I've been a naughty boy. Will you spank me?" I joked, pushing my ass out and shaking it in her face.

She rolled her chocolate-brown eyes at my behavior.

_What? I thought it was funny?_

"Very mature, Edward," she scolded and walked over to a table that was cluttered with numerous swatches of fabric and thread. It was a disaster. I thought women were supposed to be neat. Apparently not the owner of this store.

"Please," I begged. "Just one slap. I know you want to," I pouted.

"Dear God, is your fiancée a prude or something? Because I feel like you have a permanent case of blue balls and need some relief. You have two hands, partner," she laughed without humor.

I scoffed.

"Hell no. Hell _fucking_ no! Tanya loves my cock," I growled. Okay, that was a moderate lie. Lately I feel like she hasn't wanted it…

"We have great sex all the time!" I added, intending to make it appear I was getting a hell of a lot of action in the sack.

Bella looked at me, was silent for a second, and then threw her head back and starting cracking up.

"You're awfully defensive," she choked out between breaths. "You know what that means…" she trailed off.

She didn't need to finish that thought. She thought I was lying. Covering up about the lack of sex in my life. It was beyond irritating.

Come to think of it, when _was_ the last time I've had sex. Shit. I can't even remember. This is a small predicament.

What the hell? Has it really been that long?

Can I contract early Alzheimer's at age 23? Those two twins got it at age five, maybe it's happening to me too!

Irritated, I snapped at Bella.

"You know what? Just measure me, okay, and get this over with," I growled.

"Fine. Strip," she commanded.

I raised my eyebrows, but complied without a peep.

I took of my white shirt, leaving me in just my boxers. I usually am comfortable with my body, thanks to my muscular physique, but for some reason, I felt really self-conscious. Maybe the fact that I practically threw myself at her was a turn off. I can't remember the last time I've had to make the first move. Most woman just radiate to me, like I'm some sort of drug, or something.

"I need you to stand on the platform by the three-way mirror so I can take accurate measurements," she ordered.

_I need you…_

_Three-way…threesome. _

_Yummy._

Wait? Threesome? I hate those. Bizarre…

"Edward, please don't be difficult," she said without any emotion.

_Please… she's begging._

_Begging for me!_

_Lovely._

"Edward, I swear to Debussy if you don't get your tight ass on that fucking platform in the next 10 seconds, I will get Jessica and she will probably take your balls for a trophy because she is a foul mood today," she threatened.

My eyes bulged. No! Not the bitch from the phone! I want Bella.

_I want Bella? What the hell is that shit? Am I an eight-year-old girl or something?_

In compliance, I hopped on the step like a good little submissive.

"Thank you," she huffed thoughtfully.

I nodded in response.

_My pleasure…_

She had just begun to measure my wingspan when a shrill voice shrieked. My eyes darted around to the mirror to see if they had broken from the insanely high pitch.

_Phew, we're clear._

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" the woman, presumably Jessica, screamed.

In her frenzied haste, Bella dropped the tape and yelped.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "I thought you told me to take the customer's measurements for his tuxedo."

"_Tsk, tsk_," the woman squeaked. "I said take his measurements, _Isabella_, not pleasure him! This is not a brothel!" she yelped.

Bella looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

Damn me and my big…mouth.

I instantly hated this woman. "Bella and I were just having a little fun. It's my fault. I crossed the line," I admitted honestly.

"A man like you would be an idiot. Men are always woman-stealers!" Jessica screamed.

And then, it was silent, except for Jessica's gulps of air. Without much avail, she was attempting to catch her breath after her tiny rant.

"Ms. Stanley," Bella stated hesitantly. "I don't think it would be wise to, uh, reprimand Mr. Cullen. He is the customer."

Tentatively, Bella looked up and was met by a fuming glare contorting Jessica's face.

"Don't you tell me what to do! You have worked here for one day! You don't know anything! Everyone thinks they know more than me! But they don't!" she panted, still not recovered from her earlier lack of oxygen.

Bella cringed.

"Uh, I'll just go then. I'm sorry," Bella cried quietly.

"No! Make yourself useful and organize my desk. I'll take care of this little shit," Jessica snarled.

My eyes bulged, but Bella seemed unaffected as she nodded and left to begin her work.

"Well let's get going. Chop, chop!" she yelled, grabbing the tape that had fallen to the floor to resume measuring.

"Inseam first," she giggled menacingly.

I groaned as she placed the tiny silver square at the top of the strip at the highest part of my crotch. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Well look at this. I better call Cosmopolitan because you're larger than the average dollar bill. Isn't that fucking dandy!"

I swear I heard a small chuckle from inside Jessica's office. Bella was enjoying this.

I sighed. This was going to be a long-ass day…

_AN: I read in Cosmo that 87% of men are five inches long (or less) and a dollar bill is six inches long. I figured I should throw that in. Three percent are less than three inches (ouch). Six percent are between five and seven. Edward would be the prodigal three percent about eight, now wouldn't he?_

_Anyway, I thought this chapter was pretty funny. Edward is such an ass._

_So you should all review and tell me your favorite line from this chapter, okay? Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. _


	8. Author's Note

Author's Note

Hello my dearest readers. It has been quite a while since my last update. Sorry to disappoint, as this is not an update. I am going to be going on a hiatus until I figure out what I want to do with my little baby The Tailor, ReStitched. RL has gotten crazy and I have neglected this story, which is unacceptable. Right now, I am deciding between passing this story on to a new home and to a new author, who can finish her, or keeping her to myself and not giving her up. I want to see an end result in this story, preferably through my own writing; however, if I am unable to follow through, I will pass the pen onto a qualified candidate. I will give myself another few weeks before I make my ultimate decision on moving forward.

Thanks for sticking with me for this long,

Frankie


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